


Faith

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood, Car Accident, M/M, Major Character Injury, daisuga - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 05:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6503554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The screech of metal bending, cracking, glass breaking. Or maybe those are bones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry about this.

The screech of metal bending, cracking, glass breaking. Or maybe those are bones. 

Sugawara slams into the ground and opens his eyes. Red, glittering in the dull yellow of a streetlight. His eyes track the blood towards its source. 

He passes out. 

* 

“Suga. Suga, please wake up.” 

Suga opens his eyes, chest heaving, trying to suck in air. There's something in his throat, He doesn't know where he is. He thrashes against the hospital bed and feels a light touch on his arm. For a moment all he can see is harsh light, and then he turns his head. 

Daichi bends over him, concerned. “Suga, calm down. You're safe.” 

Daichi, Suga wants to say, but the tube down his throat prevents him from saying anything. Daichi grasps Suga's hand. 

“It's okay,” he says. “I'm here.” 

Suga feels like he's sinking, and he does. He blinks, and when he opens his eyes it's cold, and a nurse stands in Daichi's place adjusting his IV. 

He can't speak, but he catches a glimpse of black hair when he shifts his head. Daichi. 

He allows his head to fall back onto the pillow and passes out again. 

*

Asahi appears after Suga is awake for more than a few hours. Daichi isn't there, but Suga is relieved that someone is. Asahi hovers over Suga's bed, wringing his hands, face pale. 

“Suga, I'm-” 

“I'm okay,” Suga rasps. He can't really move but the tube is out of his throat. “I'll be fine. I'm alive.” 

Asahi swallows. “You are. I thought, after I heard, that you'd...it was bad.” 

“It's okay,” Suga tells him. “I don't remember it, anyway.” 

Asahi's eyes widen. “You don't remember the accident?” 

Suga shakes his head. “I must've hit my head. It doesn't matter. It probably wasn't pleasant.” 

Asahi looks stricken. “Th-that's-” 

“An understatement,” Suga sighs. “I know. But I just want to go home. Move past all this.” 

“I-I can help you,” Asahi says, “make arrangements. With the others. You don't have to be alone.” 

“I'm not alone,” Suga says. “I just need to concentrate on getting better first.” 

Asahi nods, small and Suga offers him a smile. Asahi doesn't seem comforted. In fact, he looks scared. 

Suga can't understand why, and he's too tired and drugged to try to figure it out. 

*

The nurses are surprisingly lenient about visiting hours when it comes to Daichi. Suga can't recall a moment when Daichi hasn't been sitting in the room when he's woken up, watching him, or fast asleep in the chair. He feels thankful in those moments when he watches Daichi sleep. Thankful that Daichi hasn't been hurt. 

His own recovery is slow, but he doesn't mind. It hurts, but Daichi holds his hand, and other friends come to visit. Broken ribs and blood loss are things he can deal with. Nightmares that wake him up screaming, he can also deal with, even if he can't remember after. At least he isn't dead. 

The night before he leaves, he wakes up covered in sweat. For a moment the hospital room is bathed in a sicky yellow glow, and then it fades to darkness and Daichi appears, perched on the edge of the bed looking concerned. 

“Suga,” he says. 

“Daichi.” Suga clutches at the blankets, heart beating too fast, each thud echoing throughout his body. 

“What was it, Suga?” Daichi asks. “Do you remember this time?” 

He doesn't. He doesn't remember. He can see colors, impressions, sounds, but it's like trying to grab sand rushing through an hourglass. 

He shakes his head. “It's fine.” 

“You should see someone,” Daichi says. “The nurse said that, too. A therapist.” 

“I'm fine, Daichi.” 

“You're not sleeping well. You don't have to handle this alone, you know.” 

“Everyone keeps telling me that,” Suga snaps, “but I'm not alone.” 

Daichi runs a hand through his hair. “I can't help you.” 

Suga's blood freezes. “What did you say?” His own voice sounds far away, not his own. 

“I said they're trying to help you,” Daichi says. He looks sad. Everyone around Suga looks sad. “You should try to get some more sleep before tomorrow.” 

Suga nods, and lowers himself back onto the pillows. He closes his eyes, but his mind is racing and he feels like Daichi has left the room. He doesn't want to sit up and check. It's silly. He hasn't heard Daichi walk away, hasn't felt him get off the bed, so there's no reason for him to feel this way. He forces himself to keep his eyes shut. 

When he next opens them, it's morning, and the nurses shakes him gently awake and hands him a set of clothes. 

“Iwaizumi-san will be here to pick you up shortly,” she says. Daichi and Iwaizumi are friends, and they'd made arrangements to pick Suga up from the hospital since Daichi doesn't have a car and Suga's was destroyed. Suga sits up, notices that for the first time in a long time his arm is free of an IV, a bandage in its place instead. He pads into the bathroom to wash up. 

Looking in the mirror, he can see why everyone has looked so sad around him. His cheeks are too hollow, skin too pale. The remnants of a dark bruise stain his left cheek and temple, extending down his neck and disappearing underneath the fabric of his hospital gown. His lips are cracked, eyes sunken, hair limp and unkempt. He lifts a silver-blond strand away from his forehead and lets it drop. He can't wait to go back to his apartment and have a proper shower. 

He finishes washing and changes into his clothes, a sweater and jeans, and waits for Iwaizumi to show up. The nurse has him sign release forms, grabs him a wheelchair even though he insists he can walk. His ribs still ache, as do other parts of his body, but he can use his legs. Still, when Iwaizumi comes, the nurse insists on wheeling Suga out to Iwaizumi's car. 

Iwaizumi is mostly silent except for one gruff “how are you feeling?” before they reach the car. It isn't until after they pull out of the hospital parking lot that he speaks again. 

“Sugawara,” he says, softer than he usually speaks, “I know you've just been released, but I've been meaning to bring this up and Asahi didn't want to burden you with the details.” 

“Details?” Suga repeats, fingers curling and uncurling. 

“We've postponed the funeral, but went ahead with the cremation,” Iwaizumi says. “We thought that you would want to be part of the process, when you felt better.” 

“Funeral?” Suga's throat closes up, the word barely choked out. 

Iwaizumi glances at him before returning his gaze to the road. “Daichi's funeral arrangements.” 

*

A screeching sound, cutting off the pop music on the radio. Shattering, painful impact. Suga screams as his body hits the ground and is hit in turn by metal and glass. His voice breaks as the impact takes the breath from his lungs. Something smacks into him and he feels bones shatter in his chest, followed by white hot pain. He can't even scream this time. 

Then everything stops, time standing still. 

Suga draws a painful breath that hitches in his chest, the only sound in the silence. He opens his eyes. The surface below him is slick with blood, glittering glass reflecting red and the yellow of the street lights. His head feels heavy and he tries to lift it, but everything spins. He closes his eyes, opens them again. The light off the glass hurts, but he tracks the trail of blood away from his body towards a tuft of black hair. 

“D-daichi,” he tries to stutter, but the name barely squeaks past his lips. Suga manages to get his arms under him this time, pushes himself up so that he can see. 

So that he can see Daichi, his head hanging back, mouth open, face pale and drained of blood. A piece of metal protrudes from his chest, which is still. Completely still. 

Suga's arms shake with the effort of holding himself up, but he can't look away. “Daichi,” he repeats, forcing his voice to work, forcing the breath from his lungs despite the pain. “Daichi, please.” 

Daichi doesn't respond. Blue, red, and white lights cut through the yellow, wash across Daichi's face. 

Then someone wraps their arms around Suga. “Paramedics. We're here to help you.” 

“Daichi,” Suga breathes. As the person behind him tries to pull him away, Suga tries to move forward. The arms encircling him catch against his ribs, the paramedic curses, Suga cries out in pain, but he lunges towards Daichi. 

Someone makes a grab for his arm and drags him back. Suga tries to yank himself away. If he can get to Daichi, if he can pull that thing out of Daichi's chest, Daichi will be okay. Daichi will be fine. Suga just has to be strong and do something. 

The paramedic is stronger, and Suga's movements grow slow and sluggish. Then he's being dragged out of the car, struggling, screaming Daichi's name over and over and over. 

Another paramedic extracts Daichi's body from the car, and Suga stops screaming, chest heaving. He can't breathe. Something wet crawls up his throat. His chest hurts and each breath doesn't feel like nearly enough. His arms and legs start to go numb as he watches Daichi get lifted onto a cart. They don't try to revive him. They throw a blanket over the body. 

Dead. Dead. Dead. 

Suga gasps and coughs, and something wet coats his lips and his vision goes and he falls against the person behind him, who isn't Daichi but catches him all the same. 

* 

“Sugawara, please calm down. You're safe here.” 

Suga opens his eyes to see Iwaizumi staring at him, concerned. His throat feels raw. Slowly, he takes in his surroundings. He's kneeling on a soft surface. He glances down. Grass. Behind him, he can hear cars on the road. 

“I'm sorry,” Iwaizumi is saying. “I should have thought, it would be hard being in a car. Is there someone you can call? Did they set you up with a therapist? Your family? Asahi offered to stay with you tonight-” 

“Daichi,” Suga breathes. He feels Iwaizumi's grip on his shoulder tighten. 

“Sugawara-” 

“Daichi is gone,” the last word comes out as a sob, and Suga's body lurches forward. He wraps his arms around himself, as if trying to keep himself from falling to pieces. Sobs shake his body and Iwaizumi holds him, keeps him from falling over. 

“I'm sorry,” he murmurs in Suga's ear. “I'm so sorry.” 

“I forgot,” Suga chokes. “I forgot.” 

“It's okay,” Iwaizumi says, and holds him. 

Eventually, Suga manages to breathe again. To make his legs work. Iwaizumi gets him in the car and they drive home. 

* 

His bed is soft, but cold. 

Asahi is in the apartment. If Suga doesn't think too hard about it, he can imagine that the person puttering around in the kitchen and playing the television at low volume in the living room is Daichi, and that he'll come to bed in an hour or two. 

It's not. 

Suga presses his hand to his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his cheeks. His chest aches, not from injury. 

Silent, someone presses against his back. Arms wrap around Suga's body, and he tenses and squeezes his eyes shut. A hand comes up to brush Suga's damp hair from his cheeks. 

“It should have been me,” Suga whispers. “It's my fault. I should have died.” 

“It wasn't your fault,” Daichi's voice murmurs in Suga's ear. “Don't you dare think that.” 

“You're not real,” Suga chokes. 

“I'm real to you,” Daichi tells him. “And I hope you listen to me.” 

Suga huffs out a breath, the scolding sounding exactly like Daichi would if he were actually there, even if he's only a combination of memories. 

“I'm not only anything,” Daichi says. “I want you to listen to me. You're not alone.” 

Suga shudders. “You've come to say goodbye.” 

Daichi's breath whispers against his skin, even though he isn't there. “Yes. But I didn't want to just leave you.” 

“Daichi-” 

“I love you. I'm so happy you survived. And I want you to live. You don't need me to do that.” 

Suga's pillow is stained with tears. He clutches at his own arms, curling in on himself. 

Daichi pulls away, but not completely. He rests one hand on Suga's shoulder, and it almost feels warm. 

“You've always been strong. You will keep being strong.” 

Suga gasps as the weight on his shoulder disappears. And then, silence. He waits for Daichi to speak, but there is no sound. 

It had really been goodbye. 

When Suga wakes up the next morning, he still remembers. He remembers that this is the new reality he has to face: one where Daichi is gone, and where he has to keep living.


End file.
